


The Unbeatable Foes

by Dragonbat



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Illnesses, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-27
Updated: 2008-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonbat/pseuds/Dragonbat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Batman has finally met his match...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unbeatable Foes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: DC owns. I borrow.
> 
> Thanks to Kathy for the beta!

**The Unbeatable Foes**

He's faced down Joker, Two-Face and Bane without flinching. He's taken elevated levels of Scarecrow's fear toxins without a hint of panic. But now, cut off from the costume, the car, and the cave, he looks into steely gray eyes and feels a chill slice through him.

He tries to draw a deep breath, but immediately begins to wheeze. "Let me pass," he says hoarsely.

The figure before him squares his shoulders and folds his arms severely. "I shall not," his adversary retorts. Righteous indignation seems to lend added bulk to his six-foot, one-hundred-sixty-pound frame.

A low growl emanates from Batman's throat. "Move aside."

This time, his opponent's response is to settle his stance more firmly. "Do not test me."

His head throbs, his heart pounds, but he forces himself to take another step forward. Without warning, his knee buckles and he begins to pitch forward.

"Master Bruce!" Alfred lunges for him, and seizes hold of his arm to steady him.

"I'm… fine, Alfred," he lies, still trying to get past the elderly man to the grandfather clock beyond. Alfred's one-handed grip is like iron.

"You are most assuredly not 'fine', Master Bruce," Alfred says grimly. His mouth is a taut line as he places his free hand on his captive's brow. He shakes his head, exasperated. "We can fetch a thermometer if you insist," he states, "but I'd say you're currently running a temperature of between one hundred two and one hundred three degrees." He drapes his charge's arm loosely over his shoulder. "Come along. I shall escort you back to your bedroom."

Bruce seems ready to protest again. Instead he claps a hand to his mouth as a hacking fit overtakes him.

Defeated, he allows Alfred to lead him out of the study.

"Judging from the sound of that cough," Alfred says, "you'll have a fight on your hands to avoid laryngitis."

Bruce is silent.

After a moment, Alfred squeezes his shoulder. "Let's get you settled, sir, and I'll fix you a cup of hot tea with honey."

He can take on a virus. He can take on Alfred. But he'll never overpower their combined might. Even the Batman has his limits.


End file.
